


Red | Kylo Ren

by nostalgichobbit



Category: Kylo - Fandom, Kylo Ren - Fandom, Psychotic - Fandom, Star Wars - All Media Types, adamdriver - Fandom, murder - Fandom, psycho - Fandom, psychological - Fandom, psychothriller - Fandom, starwarsfanfiction
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Has No Chill, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren gets mad at everything, Leather, Leather gloves, Murder, Oops, a lot of blood, acts like lady Macbeth with blood, he might rape, honestly not a lot of romance, how else does he achieve that shiny look, i don’t know if it’s working out tho, is literally devoted to his Darling, just wanted to write an interesting story and decided kylo should be the main character, kylo brushes his hair in the shower, kylo hates blood, kylo is a psychotic killer, kylo is somewhat a philosopher, kylo punches a cop, kylo seriously loves his Darling, literally just a story about kylo being a psychotic murderer, not much fluff, okay maybe more than slight, slight necrophilia, smokes, sorry not in his right mind, uses a red hot knife to kill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26946895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgichobbit/pseuds/nostalgichobbit
Summary: 1945.California.Springtime.Kylo Ren has lost his mind and he's losing himself - slowly.Warning: This story follows a dark theme. Will include some acts of necrophilia and detailed murder.
Kudos: 2





	1. The Prelude

Claw marks on my face. They sting.

She's yelling. Her voice hoarse.

I'm holding her down. My arms ache from the amount of strength.

Blood falling from her lips; falling from her head. She'll be drowning in crimson soon.

My hearts beating. I'm terrified.

What am I doing?

She's pleading with me in such a small voice that I'm unsure if it's her or my mind making it up.

Is this real?

I grab the red-hot knife and drag it along her stomach, the last I do to her before I...

I'm sorry.


	2. Chapter Two

1945  
Hilmar, California  
Summertime

I opened the cherry brown door and walked straight into my house, not even bothering to clean my shoes on the welcome mat. I walked a few steps before I could feel the cream colored walls closing in on me and I panicked. My breathing came out in quick spurts and my heart raced.

I did it, again.

I couldn't take the feeling of my heart feeling like a boulder slamming into my chest. I ran to our kitchen, almost slipping on the linoleum. I grunted, leveling myself on our counter, leaving a handprint.

I looked at it in worry, wondering how I happened to do something like this, again.

I shrugged it off knowing I had something bigger to deal with than a handprint I could wipe away. I moved over to the sink that faced a window and turned the faucet on.

The water did nothing.

The crimson stain wouldn't wash away. No matter how hard I scrubbed, no matter how raw my skin felt with the scalding hot water, the stain remained.

I sauntered over to grab a dish towel to dry my hands, using this as my last attempt to rid my hands of the reminder. I sighed, knowing this was a stain that wouldn't be so easily removed.

I had the mind of Lady Macbeth. The blood was all gone, but the reminder stayed. I tried getting rid of it, yelling at myself, trying to force my mind to erase it, but it was fresh in my memory.

I pulled at my black waves, hard, trying to use this pain to rid my mind. It didn't work—it only made it worse.

Dish towel still in hand, I used it to wipe the handprint. At least that was easily removed. I sighed, wishing that my mind could be cleaned with just a wipe of a dish towel. I chuckled at the silly, yet amusing, thought 

I walked down the hallway, scanning the pictures on the walls as I made my way to the bedroom. I took notice of how happy my darling looked next to me and how I stood. I knew my mind hadn't made its way to where it is now.

I opened the door, not looking at her just yet. I walked over to our bathroom, changing out of my blood crusted clothes and shoving them deep in the hamper, not even caring to rid them of their evidence.

I step into the shower, adjusting the water to a temperature that's suitable for me. My hair is sticking to my neck as I watch the reminder making it's way down my legs and into the drain. The water has taken a new color and I'm glad that at least something will leave me.

I shampoo my hair, lathering the soap and hoping that just maybe, the soap will cleanse me. It does little other than clean my hair. The conditioner comes next and this time I comb it through my hair, hoping that just maybe, this way will help cleanse me. No, again. How useless all my tactics are. Nothing I try rids me of anything.

I shut the water off and grab the towel hanging on the rack nearby. I dry my hair first then wrap it around my hips. The one normal routine I might actually have.

I walk back into the bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind me, and make my way to my wardrobe. I grab the first pair of black briefs I can find then a black wife beater and some black pajama pants.

In my bed, I laid down next to my wife. She was happily humming to herself while reading a novel.

"Honey," I said. She perked her head towards me, nodding as she does when she's listening to me and ready for me to talk. "Will you rub my hands?"

She set her book aside and sat up in the bed, smiling as she gestures for me to put my hands into hers. She grabbed my right hand first and started applying pressure, rubbing my palm and I immediately felt tranquillity spread throughout me. My tense shoulders fell and for once I felt calm. She repeated the process with my left palm and I fell deeper into a state of calmness.

At times like this, I feel safe. My mind is safe. I am transported to a place where it isn't choking me with the reminders of my wrongdoings. Where it isn't making me wish I was currently sailing across the River Styx or being placed at the seventh level of hell, where I'll be punished for my sins. Where I'm not wishing that my hands where cut off and that I was unable to move.

I feel myself being beckoned to a light side of my mind, one that houses memories of good days.

January, 1942. Darling and I took a trip to see some snow and we ended up at Big Trees State Park in Calaveras. A new park that has been advertised in newspapers and caught our attention. We got out of our 1941 Grey Buick Roadmaster Convertible and into the chilling air. She stepped beside me, smiling with her nose already red rimmed from the cold, and rubbing her hands together to create some warmth.

"I told you to bring gloves," I reminded her while I pulled out a extra pair that I brought for her. I already knew she wasn't going to remember -- she hardly remembers anything.  
"And I knew you were going to bring me some regardless," her velvety-smooth voice spoke out. She looked at me with her blue eyes that held so much compassion for me and stuck her tongue out like she does when she's proving herself right, in a nice manor.  
"Right," the word dragged out of my mouth, she knows me so well.  
"Okay honey, let's get to walking before you turn into a icicle." I grabbed her, now, gloved hand and wrapped my fingers around hers.

We started walking down the path, seeing how so many families are having fun. Kids with sleds going down hills, the laughs that were reverberating against the trees, parents warming up their kids, and some even scolding their young ones for taking off their mittens.

I heard my darling sigh, the look of yearning in her eyes once again. I felt sadness for her, one I wouldn't describe to her in efforts to not make her feel any worse than she could.

She's always wanted kids, but when the doctor informed her she was unable to, she fell into a pit of sadness. We've talked about starting a family so many times before, always resulting in us feeling satisfied and ready to bring a new life into this world. She never brings it up, but I know how disappointed she feels that she's unable to mother a child. How sad she feels that she'll never be able to love what will never come out of her.

I nudged her, hoping to lock eyes with her and have her understand that it's okay. She looks at me with the knowingness and returns my gesture with a small smile.

We walk away from the families, following a different path with not many other's. We take notice of the large trees and the snow that has begun to build up on their trunks. Many times we point out things we find beautiful to each other, each time she smiles her beautiful smile and looks up at me, keeping her eyes on mine for a few seconds before resuming her stare at the nature surrounding us.

Minutes past and the snows begins to trickle down slowly. I stare up, admiring the beauty as the snow falls through the leaves. I feel like I'm in a dream, or another universe, one of pureness; nothing bad. I feel snow droplets touch my face and somehow, I feel warm. I feel happiness. I'm happy.

I look over at my darling and she's smiling at me, noticing how I was in complete solace moments ago.

"You're beautiful," I bring her close to me, studying her face as I've done so many times.

"As are you." She wraps her small arms around my waist and buries her face into my chest.

This feels like heaven. It is heaven; my bliss.

I'm sucked back into reality when she lays my hands flatly on my lap. I rub the back of my neck, something I do when I am nervous. She notices and wraps her frail arms around my neck, pushing me towards her. I sigh in content. How nice that her small arms can provide so much comfort to someone as big as me.

We fall asleep shortly after. Her laying beside me and her smell filling my nose. I smile at this, dreaming about snow.

I wake up to a new day, groaning, remembering I have to continue packing. Darling and I are moving to a new town. It's small but suitable for us. Neither of us have many friends -- we're both fine with staying home and enjoying each other's company rather than nights out so it's not like we're leaving anything behind. We've just grown to want a fresh start.

I make my way to our garage, grabbing brown boxes that have yet to be folded up. Such a arduous task I have to do, with no help from Darling either.

I start in the hallway, grabbing our photos and wrapping them in paper, as to not break while they are being moved to our new house, and putting them into a box. I feel unsatisfied, like I am supposed to feel something other than not wanting to pack.

I'm supposed to feel nostalgic taking these photos down, remembering where they were taken, but I don't. I am supposed to feel a tug at my heart, reminders of days that once made me feel, but I don't. I am supposed to feel sadness that I'm leaving this house, but I don't. Why?

I tuck away the last photo and tape the box up, grabbing a black marker and labeling it "Photos." I move over to our sofa and take a seat, running my fingers through my hair. I grab the packet off the coffee table and go through its contents, looking at the new home that will be where we lay our heads.

I should say I am a bit happy to move, leaving the strings I had to this town. But, as per usual, I feel nothing. The neighbors all gave me taut looks now, such a contrast to their once smiles. I wondered what had gotten into them. I've had notes in my mailboxes from anonymous writers about how my house carried darkness with it and its smell was able to induce retching. How rude people can be, how would they feel if I plucked the the daisies that were growing in the Andersons garden? Or if I left anonymous hate letters in the Johnsons mailbox? Or did anything that actually warranted the dislike I gained from my neighbors.

The police even showed up once to give me a stern talking to. How embarrassing that I, a man well into his thirties, had to have the police show up at my doorstep, hand covering nose, vocalize their dislike. They even had the bright idea to start asking me questions about all the missing persons in town. I was in utter shock -- I felt disrespected.

Actually, I am glad to leave this horrid town. Glad to leave my neighbors and quite frankly, the entirety of the townspeople. With this thought in mind, I continue my packing, doing it at a hastily pace.

I grab a beer from the refrigerator and start in the kitchen. It takes me a lengthy amount of time but at least that's finished. I end up finishing all the packing in a few hours later. I take all the boxes to our car and stuff them inside. The hardest part is lugging the furniture onto the attachment for the car.

I grab my Darling from the seat I left out for her and put her into my arms and carry her over to the passenger seat. She smiles and places her hand on my cheek, rubbing it slightly. I fall into her touch, happy to have her sweet gesture.

I leave her for a few moments as I walk into the house for the last time, scanning it all again. I won't miss it.

I lock up and get inside the car, pulling out, and driving away.

A new start is on its way.


	3. Chapter three

We pass the Hilmar sign, being swallowed deeper into the small town. My grip around the steering wheel has turned my knuckles white and a dull ache to appear. I look over to My Darling, hoping she can ease the building tension but she keeps her eyes set out the window.

I can feel the anxiety rolling off her. I know she was okay with the move, but I can tell that the farther we drive into our new life, the more she fears it. She's accustomed to live with familiarity, so being in a new place, full of unknowingness, is enough to unnerve her.

"It's going to be okay honey. Once we settle in and have our first few nights here, it'll feel like home," I reassure her.

Nothing. She says nothing.

I repeat myself again.

Nothing.

She's still staring out the window.

"God damnit honey!" I pound my fists on the steering wheel. The car swerves just a bit before I can get a firm grip on it again.

Why does she have to be like this? Why can't she talk to me!

"This move is going to be good for us. You need to look at in through lightness -- not darkness," I stop speaking for a few minutes, letting my words resonate in her. "Sweetie...You'll see that we needed this move. We had to get out of that god forsaken town! I can understand why you feel uneasy, but you said yourself you were okay with this move."

I think I hear her sigh.

I am so frustrated. I take one hand off the steering wheel and pull at my hair, ripping out strands as I do. I am now driving well above the speed limit, going thirty over. Darling doesn't even say anything. She should be telling me to slow down or at least to be careful, but nothing.

I hear sirens behind me and a "pull over to the right side of the road." Surely this can't be directed towards me. I continue driving, but I did slow down a bit. Again, I heard the same words.

I pulled the car over and heard another do the same behind me. I grew tense when I heard the knock on my window. My shaking hands were somehow able to roll the window down and ask what the meaning of this was. The words "license and registration" were said, but I couldn't process them.

"Excuse me sir, but why did I get pulled over?"

"Why?" The officer scoffed. "You were going thirty over the speed limit!"

"There's no one else on the road."

He looks out at the road and repeats "license and registration" again.

I refuse to give it to him, insisting that I've done nothing wrong.

"Sir, I am going to need you to step out of your vehicle."

I groan, but I oblige. I unbuckled my seatbelt, looking over at Darling to see she is unfazed by this whole spectacle, and opened the door to step out.

It doesn't take more than a few moments for the officer to orient himself with my tall frame. I was easily towering over his five foot six size. I could see he didn't expect me to be tall.

I wanted this all to be over and seeing that his small size was no match for mine, I decided to do the reasonable thing and hand over my identification.

He grabbed it out of my hand and once he did a quick look over, I heard him gasp and a small whisper that I swear sounded like he was speaking my name.

"You're Kylo Ren..." He stopped and stared right at me.

I coughed out, "Yes, why does that matter?"

"Heard from a few towns down you were moving over here. You got the town in shock."

"Now, why would that be?" A question for him, but also for me. Why would I be the talk of a town I hadn't even stepped foot in?

"Got wind that you were a crazy son-of-a-bitch, and not the good kind either."

My nerves quickly shattered with my growing anger. Who started this rumor? Was it the police officer who showed up at my house that one time? No, it must've been those who wrote the hate mail. It had to be.

"Everyone is already afraid of you. Got them talking like its the Book of Revelation and you're somehow here to bring us all misery. That, or you're the devil in the shape of a man. Can't say which I believe. But I can say something is off about you, and that god awful stench coming from your car. Ever heard of slicing up a lemon and letting it sit in your car? Well...obviously not..."

I don't let him finish his sentence before I'm on top of him, punching his nose deep into his skull. He coughs out blood, yelling "now why they hell did you do that for? I could have you arrested!"

I get up off him, adjusting my trousers and kicking him in the stomach. I watch him cough out more blood while I walk off and leave him there.

I'm back on the road, looking out through the side mirror to see if there were or is any cars nearby. None. I am hoping no one saw, mainly because I don't want such rumors getting out of hand when I still haven't settled into the town yet!

I'm hoping the cop won't remember -- I did bang up his skull pretty well. I wouldn't want him blabbing his mouth out to the town, speaking on how I am some test sent from God. Lord knows I'd get ran out of this small town before I was able to put my foot through the door.

Minutes pass and I see the town come to view. It's very small, one main road with a few stores. None seem appealing but will have to do unless I want to drive farther for whatever will suffice for me.

The main road branches off to smaller roads leading to the houses. I have to slow the car down a few times to stick my head out of the window to ask where I'd be able to find this road. I get directions from a few people and after I drive myself into a circle three times, I finally find the road I was looking for.

I smile, noticing how nice all these houses look on this cul-de-sac. They all look the same: simple one story homes painted yellow with wooden gates surrounding the front area. I know Darling will love it.

It's late in the afternoon by the time I start taking the boxes out and putting them inside the house. I survey the house, grateful we chose one with two bedrooms and one bath. Perfect for us and quite accommodating.

By the time I finish shoving all the boxes into what will be our living room, Darling still hasn't moved from her place in the car. Of course she would wait till I would carry her out. I grunt, annoyed that she couldn't even get out to help me.

I don't want her to be sit on the carpeted floor in the house, so I go struggle to take the sofa off the attachment. I hear the scuffing of boots nearby and a voice say "here, let me help you." I don't bother to look towards the voice, but grab one end of the sofa while they grab the other. This does make it easier and lighter to put into the house and a task that probably would have taken me ten minutes was reduced to three.

"Hey, thanks, made my job a whole lot easier," I praise.

"No worries, saw a new neighbor struggling and decided its best to help. I'm James." He extends his left hand out to me and I do the same but with my right.

"Woah, what you got there?" He gestures over to the crimson stains enveloped over my hand.

This is the first time I've actually looked at my hand since my earlier doings. I say nothing and quickly walk towards the house. I navigate my way towards the sink, grateful that we have running water already and attempt to wash the blood off.

It won't wash off.

It won't go away.

Lady Macbeth.

I shut the water off and pound my fists on the nearby, wood counter. I hear a crack and my eyes immediately run it over. Just my luck -- a crack. How am do I manage to ruin a house so quickly.

I practically run out of the house and grab Darling. I see the man who helped me already walking towards his house, and just to my luck he lives directly in front of us. I grumble and walk back to the house, carrying Darling. I set her down on the couch and take a whiff of the house.

It smells complete with her here. A smell that only comes from her already flowing through the house.

I shut the house door, too crazed to finish our packing and start pacing across the carpeted floor. 

Blood. Blood. Blood.

"Ugh!" I yell out. I'm gripping at my hair, pulling it out. I throw the lose strands on the floor and shove my fists into my eyes.

Why won't it go away? Why does the blood insist on staying?

"Sweetheart," I hear my darling say beside me. "Come here."

I walk over to her and sit beside her on the couch. Her smalls arms wrap around me and I melt into her.

"Everything's okay, you're all right. Calm down, I'm here for you." I feel her kiss the top of my head and run her fingers through my hair.

"But it's not. My hands are stained. I can't get rid of it and in trying to do so, I cracked our counter. We haven't even finished moving in and I ruined something!"

I throw my arms out, not wanting to be held by her no longer. I can't take this. Why is she caressing me when all I've done is made a mess of things?

"Give me your hands."

I don't.

"Kylo! Give me your hands right now!" She's screaming at me, I can hear the anger laced in her voice.

"Stop it! Stop talking!" I ruined our first day here together. We're screaming at each other. This is supposed to be a fresh start, not just in a new town, but for us. Now, it'll just be the same.

No. I don't want that. I can change right here, right now. We'll forget about this day tomorrow. Forget everything that happened.

I calm myself down and put my hands in her small ones.

It takes less than five minutes for My Darling to massage into my hands and for all the negative energy surrounding me to leave. I'm thankful she understands me and is willing to put up with me. I don't know what I'd do without her.

"I'm sorry," I mumble out.

"Shh, it's alright sweetheart."

"I'll finish bringing in all our things tomorrow morning. I think it's too late to finish it all now." It should be around nine now, the sky is dark and the moon has risen in the east.

I want to bring our mattress in, knowing how painful it'll be to sleep on the couch but I decide against it. Instead, I go into the backyard-- I need to get out of this house already. Its a decent sized area, a singular tree on the side of our grassy yard.

I left Darling on the couch, already knowing she wouldn't want to be outside anyways. She's probably diving into her books by now. I scan the yard and find a place to sit -- right in the middle. I stare up at the sky with admiration. How beautiful the stars are.

I feel like the constellations Orion and the Pleiades. I'm chasing something I'll never be able to catch. I want happiness. I want the stains to go away. I want my Darling to be happy. I don't want to struggle anymore. But much like Orion and the Pleiades, who lives in the sky, forever trying to be with the sisters, but sadly being arms length away, I've been cursed by mythological gods to live out my days, trying to obtain something I can't.

I'm stuck.

a/n im super excited for how this story will turn out. I already have the storyline thought of + the ending! first few chapters will be short, I am just introducing it all. then the chapters will get longer and more detailed. hope you all enjoy :')

please leave comments and let me know what you think!


	4. chapter four

Warning: this chapter will contain a sexual scene. do not read it if you're not looking for that. this will be the only warning the entire story will get. keep that in mind.

After an hour of staring up at the sky, I walk back inside. I cross over the linoleum that covers the kitchen floor and make my way to the carpeted living room. Such a nasty color — who would ever think to have an olive green carpet?

I kick off my shoes, leaving them messily by some unopened boxes. My mind is racing and I need my Darling. I need her to be my elixir and bring me tranquility.

I make my way to the sofa and sit next to her. I watch as her eyeballs move ever so slightly under her eyelids, a small performance of her being captivated by a dream.

I nudge her awake, I need to do something about my mind. Her eyelids flutter open and I grab her neck and push her mouth towards mine. Our lips lock, her soft ones stalling before she mimics the movement of mine. I desperately need her and I'm fighting her mouth, wanting it to open to stick my tongue in. She opens her mouth, slightly, which I take advantage of by pushing past and twirling my tongue around hers.

I groan, wanting to feel her more — have our bodies connect — be as one. I grab the hem of her lilac blouse and lift it off of her, throwing it somewhere around the room. I palm her through her bra, but quickly figuring that this isn't enough for me, I unclasp it with swift fingers and let it fall down her arms.

Our kissing is much rougher, much needier. I can't tell if this is all my doing or she is as hungry for this as I am. I pinch her right nipple with the forefinger and thumb of my right hand while the other holds her neck, not letting our lips leave each other.

I can feel the fabric of my trousers getting tighter. I need relief, soon.

I break the kiss, moving my head to her left breast and sucking the nub. I think I feel her hands pulling at my hair, and I love it. I moan into her nub, still working her right nipple with my fingers.

I keep my mouth working and unbutton her white jeans and tug them down her legs, with her panties. I break away from her chest and move to her mouth again.

Our mouths are working together as one — perfectly in sync. It's as if our mouths were made for each other. My tongue is wrestling hers, creating such a sweet by sloppy kiss that makes me crave her even more.

My fingers rest right next to her slit and I slip them into her folds. I gather the wetness between my fingers and rub at her clit, eliciting a moan from her mouth.

I disconnect our lips and move my head to admire her sweetness between her legs.

"I'm going to put three fingers in, okay Darling?"  
I hear her moan and that's enough for me to force my fingers through her tight hole. I can feel her walls already squeezing my fingers.

I take them out, memorizing her juices and putting them in my mouth, sucking and coating my tongue with her indescribable taste.

I take my fingers out of my mouth with a pop, and they smell like her. I love it. I need more.

I move her body so she's sitting upright on the sofa, feet touching the floor. My arms wrap around her thighs and my head dives in. I litter her inner thighs with soft kisses before I leave a wet kiss right on her slit. I work my way to her clit, my tongue slowly moving up and down her folds. Her hands grab my hair, pulling it closer to her. I catch her clit in my mouth, sucking and humming at it, and push three fingers into her. She's so tight and I'm so hard, I don't think I have it in me to keep doing this.

I unlatch my lips and move upwards, standing up to unbutton my trousers. I rip my cock out, stroking my pulsing shaft a few times before I slam into Honey.

I'm groaning, slamming into her, being swallowed by her tightness. My hands move to her breasts, palming them. I'm engulfed in her scent, making me want her even more. I lock our lips once again, pushing my tongue into her mouth and coating her with my saliva.

I move one hand to the side of her stomach, resting in on her curve. My fingers dig into her while I move inside her, my head lolling back and forth with all my pleasure.

As I slam harder into her, I lose my balance and my hand slips off her curve, oddly taking some of her skin with me. 'Damn, I shouldn't hold her too tightly,' a mental note I make to myself.

A few more strokes and I finally cum inside her — her inside milking my cock of all its cum. I feel satisfied and I lay my head on her chest, smothering my nose with her scent. My soft cock slips out and I get up, tucking it back into my trousers and watching my cum slide down her thighs.

I find a box labeled "towels" and dig in, grabbing a simple blue one to wipe her clean. I dress her again, hearing her hum in appreciation. I move away, only to have her rest her palm on my red cheeks, and smile at me.

"Let's go to bed Darling."

I squish myself next to her on the sofa, making sure she's comfortable and me close to her. We're laying down now, her head resting on my chest, her arm wrapping around my stomach and my arm holding her close. This is pure — this is love.

It takes me a few moments before my eyes grow heavy and I fall asleep.

My eyes open -- I'm welcomed into a dream. I scan my surroundings: I am in a simple home, in the middle of what seems to be a living room near a kitchen area. I look down at myself wearing my usual black attire. I try to walk around, to familiarize myself or at least figure out if I've been in this house before, but I can't. Surely this can't be happening to me, in a dream of all places. I try harder, pulling at my right leg to move forward but it' stuck. I try to wiggle myself, rotating at the hips, but I'm still in the same place.

My body lurches, leaving me unsteady and oddly enough allowing me to fall to the floor on my knees. I try to understand what is happening, but my brain can't focus on anything but why my body is being so unusual. I try scanning the area next to me; I am trying to find something that can be used to help me move. I move my head slightly and my vision is filled with red. A crimson stain takes up the carpeted area -- the smell filling my nose. I don't understand what's happening. I want to stand up. I go to push my hands against the floor when I noticed that my fingers were laced in red -- and somehow my right hand held a sharp knife. Blood was dripping from the knife to the fingers that held it.

I analyze all around me; an awful feeling is growing in my stomach. How did this puddle of blood end up here? Around me? Why am I covered in blood? Why...is...there...a...knife...in...my...hand?

I try throwing it far away from me but my fingers won't let it ago. I try again, and again, and again, only for my fingers to finally release it and a blood curdling sound to follow.

I jolt awake, shoving Darling off of me. Hair is stuck to my neck, forehead bombarded with sweat droplets, and my hands are shaking. I take a deep breath, hating how these plague my mind. They scare me, I can't quite put my finger on why, but they do.

I haven't gone back to sleep. I can't sleep without the fear of those dreams. Even more, I can't think. My attention is solely focused on the ember that is finally going out within me. Was it ever lit? I'm unable to answer that question.

Goddamnit, what circumstances have made me this way? Everything coursing through me is torturous.

The birds are chirping loudly outside and I focus my attention on the sound. Taking in the different chirps each bird makes, absorbing it, mentally hoping it'll be able to ease the raging war I have yet to address.

Why haven't I addressed it? If I don't, it'll go away, right? I hope so, that's what I need. I've been consumed, no — monopolized by this fiend.

"Fuck," I scream into my hands. My palms are sweaty as I grow frustrated; I can't seem to navigate the switch in my mind. I need to find solace, so desperately. My feet are up before my mind can process it and I saunter out of the room.

From behind me I hear Darling shift on the couch, but she makes no movement to follow. Nor does she try to console me. I scoff and walk into the front yard, towards the car.

I grab the pack of cigarettes that were hidden in the front seat of the car and stick one in between my teeth. I light it and inhale deeply, relaxing once the smoke hits my lungs.

The moon is still high in the sky, but it's inching towards the west. I'm assuming it'll set soon but I can't tell without knowing the time.

"Hah," I let out. Getting my mind off of incurable thoughts by smoking and thinking of when the moon will set is purely comedic. Out of all things I can think of, this is what my mind settles on. At least I understand that the moon sets in the west and rises in the east, unlike Darling.

I can't begin to fathom why I must act this way. How can my mind switch gears so quickly? One second the weight of my torturous mind is crushing me, another second I'm at ease.

I don't know how long I am out here before the light of Jame's front porch turns on. I'm assuming it's early in the morning now, time for neighbors to start waking up for work. I hear a door shut and footsteps coming closer.

"Hey neighbor, just wanted to check in on you and that hand," the familiar voice creeps up on me.

a/n please vote and comment what you think! i'd love to know what you all think of the story thus far <3


	5. chapter five

"Hey James," my hand makes its way to my neck subconsciously and starts pulling at the strands. 

"So, the hand?" He repeats his question.

"Right," I chuckle. "It's fine, had the wife check on it and it seems I accidentally cut it when I was unloading the boxes. She cleaned it all up."

"I think maybe I should look at it, I am a doctor if you didn't know." He pushes his hand towards me as an indication to let him examine my "injury."

"Actually," I start walking towards the house, "I am going to go see how the wife is doing. First night sleeping here and I wanna make sure she's comfortable. "

"Hm, okay. I'll let you go then. See ya, Kylo," He waves but I make my way inside the comfort of my home before I get the chance to say goodbye.

He is so nosey. I don't like that. Why does he care? I just moved here. He should focus more on his dry grass that obviously needs help tending to.

I step on our carpet that has already seeped its way into my toe crevasses. I kick at it to get it away. This carpet is disastrous and tampers on my mood.

I try not letting my feet sink into the carpet and check on Darling who seems to still be fast asleep on the couch. At least someone is able to sleep.

Seeing as the sun has begun to rise and I still have a weeks worth of packing I am going to shove into a day, I decide it's time to start.

I start with our bedroom first, already knowing that Darling is only ever going to spend time in there. I choose the room on the right side of the hallway. It's a decent size, bigger than the room a few steps down on the left side. It has a window closest to the left corner, next to the sliding doors that is our closet. I am not too happy with the window being that close to the closet but it will make do.

I wish I could fast forward this portion of the unpacking -- putting together the bed. I walk outside to grab our bedposts which were left outside on the car attachment and haul them in. Only takes me around twenty minutes to assemble them in the middle of our room which end up taking up half of the space.

The mattress is the hardest part. I go outside, yet again, to grab the mattress from the car attachment and try pulling it inside the house, scraping it on the floor. This task alone is so arduous.

I drag the mattress into the room and with my withering strength, I throw it so it lands in between the bedposts.

I slam my body onto the mattress and lay straight down, trying to give myself a taste of asphyxiation.

My life is so dull and all Darling does is lay around. I miss when she'd always be by my side, talking to me. I sigh and lift myself up, grabbing a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it before taking a drag.

I can't be bothered to fix the sheets for the bed so I leave the cigarette between my teeth and get to working on the closet. I start with Darling's clothes first, making sure I put them away according to how she likes them — color coordinated. While this takes time and the ability to color coordinate, I do it for my love of Darling. I know she'll be happy I am doing this for her.

I am almost finished when I think I hear the steps of Darling closing in.

"Kylo, what are you doing?" She asks.

"Putting away your clothes, and how you like them too — color coordinated," I cheerfully say as I am actually proud of myself for being able to put her clothes away with no help from her.

"No! You didn't do it right! How stupid do you have to be to put an ivory colored shirt right next to my whites? Do you have no eyes? Can you not see clearly? You can't even do one simple task correct." I turn my head to fully stare at her. Her eyes are boring holes into me, she's fuming.

"If you don't like my job of unpacking, more specifically your clothes, you should've done it yourself."

"Excuse me? What? Kylo...did you actually think that your Darling, your Sweets, your Honey, would possibly unpack herself? It's clear to me you lack the ability to critically think," she sneers. 

"Just get out, you're not doing anything for either of us by staying here," I brush her away with my hands and resume my unpacking when I think I hear her walk off.

How could she? I don't need to do the unpacking. I don't need to do anything. I could've had her do all the unpacking, but here I am, doing everything for us.

This was supposed to be a new start and somehow Darling just reverted back to how she was in our old house. I don't understand how she can just act like a devil in disguise.

Instead of me being the Hades to her Persephone, she's mine.

I try to be better for her, try to be what she needs, and do I get any thanks? Do I get anything? No, I get an angry Darling.

I focus all my attention on unpacking but push hers aside. If she claims I don't put her clothes away in accordance to how she likes them, she can do it herself.

I grab the box of my few possessions, grabbing the limited amount of black outfits I have and shove them into the closet. I have no intentions of having them be tidy by hanging up.

As I am mindlessly shoving my trousers into the closet, my hand grips onto something that seems crusted over.

I bring it on in front of my face to examine the content, when a scent engulfs my nose.

This shirt. The look. The smell. The memory.

I immediately drop the shirt and walk out of the room, finding myself in the kitchen grabbing an item.

Before I leave the house, I face Darling who hides her eyes away from me.

Of course.

I make my way, or what I think is the way, into town. I have no recollection how I got into town the first time and how I arrived to my house. It was all a blur actually. My mind was how horribly wrong our first day was going after being pulled over by a cop who had no reason to pull me over other than being bored. Such a shame his face is busted in though, he was rather well looking. Well, serves him right. As well as all the talk about me he was informing me on. How on earth do I already have a name for myself in this town? 

As I reach the end of my street, I take a right and continue walking till I see a large array of lights. That has to be the town. I am surprised it is rather close but again, this is a fairly small town with one street serving as the Main Street. 

Glad I was able to find the town, I scan the area in hopes of finding a general store. How disappointing that this town only seems to have one general store when I am so used to living close to multiple. Maybe moving to a small town was a bad idea, but I had to have my priorities straight. Luckily, I see one that seems to be open. 

I'm making my way and despite the time inching ten at night, there is not many faces out. Interesting. This town doesn't seem to have a night life. Well, who would be happy to wonder a street with nothing to do other than visit a general store.

Walking into the bright general store, my eyes burning with the sharp contrast, I notice how dull and boring it is. At least the general stores in my old town had a bit of color and pop to them, here it is dark and grey. 

The darkness is welcoming and familiar but doesn't appease my mind. 

My large frame takes the cashier by surprise when he notices my presence. He stares at me for a few moments, startled it seems, before he assumes the help he is supposed to ensure. 

"May I help you?" His voice is soft yet monotoned from years of speaking the same four words. He probably thought there would be no one coming in since closing time is soon, which he doesn't hesitate to announce.

"Lighters." 

He seems as reluctant to show me as I was to reply to allow help, but nonetheless does he show me. We walk passed many aisles when a pair of leather gloves catch my eye. But what possible use could they be to me. 

We make it to the lighters and I look through the ones available till I am distracted by the worker still standing by me, staring. 

"You're that new guy everyone is talking about huh? The towns been talking loads about you." 

I don't respond. I don't understand how so many of the townspeople know about me when I clearly have barley moved here. Maybe I should confide in James. He seems just the right amount of oblivious I need for someone I'll be able to talk to. 

It is just hard to believe that not only did that interaction which the cop to spark my attention to what is be said about me, but now this simple worker. That has to mean that possibly everyone in this town has to know about me! How disastrous this is for me!

How can everyone just make an assumption about me before even meeting me! What could be said that grabs not one, but all the townspeople, attention? 

I grab the lighter and he is still staring at me. 

"What?" I spit out. Apparently nothing new ever happens to this worker if I am this interesting to him. 

"I am hoping you found everything okay," a verse he has repeated so many times before. 

"What does it look like? What is in my hand?" Such a dull minded individual. 

I shove the lighter deep in my pocket and leave the general store, not bothering to pay. Even if this worker reports it to the police, I am already talked about in this town, so what more will this do to me other than fuel entertainment? 

I find a bench that's farther down the road from the general store. Many of the shops have closed down already as the street is becoming darker and darker with no light shining and no faces walking around. 

I sit on the shadowed bench, taking my pack of cigarettes and grabbing one. I place it in between my teeth, waiting a few moments before I light it. 

I let my saliva dampen the half in my mouth. The darkness surrounding me is enough to place me in tranquility yet awaken something in me. 

I dig for the lighter in my trousers. I ignite the flame and take a drag from my lighted cigarette, letting the smoke sit in my lungs. It burns, but I don't bother to exhale. This feeling is somehow calm. I'm giving myself the pain; I am allowing myself to hurt -- to feel. I could say this feels like the calm before the storm. 

I finally exhale after moments of my lungs screaming for help, but as I take the second drag, I torture my lungs again. 

This time they burn much worse than the first time but I relish in it. I love this feeling. Despite everything in me wanting the burning smoke to leave my insides and to inhale pure oxygen, I feel calm. 

Calm. Calm. Calm. 

So calm that I didn't even notice the lights of the general store turn off and the worker walking my way. 

There's the calm before the storm. 

And the storm just walked right in front of me. 

a/n hi!!! I am so sorry it took me so long to update ): I was going to update days ago but my work was deleted but I am glad because this chapter turned out better. I hope you all enjoy and are able to notice how the next chapter will be like (: don't forget to comment <3


	6. chapter six

...and the storm just walked past.

I knew what I was going to do before my legs got up to follow this man. They knew what they were doing even when he turned his head to inspect me. They knew what they were doing when he questioned what I was doing.

And they knew what they doing when I threw him into the nearby alley by the neck.

"Mister, what are you doing?" I could hear the fear in his voice. His fingers digging into my wrist trying to pull my hands off. 

I tighten my grip on his neck, almost certain I managed to pierce the skin. 

I hear the crack his skull makes when I slam it against the brick wall. His blood trickles down his left cheek and feels like fire when it touches my skin. 

I rip my hand off, but put it back on almost immediately after knowing that no matter what, the blood will stain and I can't change that. 

"If this is because of what I said in the store...well I'm sorry. You know how small towns talk and right now you're as interesting as the first blossom in spring." 

"Shut up!" My fist sinks into his stomach, restricting his breath and hearing the wheeze come from him that is music to my ears. 

But my mind can't shake it. 

"What do you mean talk? Talk about what? What could there possibly be said about me?" 

His smirk mocked me. 

Minutes passed and we stayed in the same exact position. His eyes boring into mine knowing that he has the upper hand. 

"No! No! No!" 

The words of a few townspeople holds no importance to me. 

I feel the crack of his nose when my fist collides with it. The blood seeps through my knuckles but I don't care. 

My face is being sprinkled with droplets of blood as I slam his face again and again and again into the brick wall. 

His mouth drops open and I see the crimson stain forming on his teeth, knowing my hands will be the same. 

I drop my hands. 

I can't do this. Not now. 

I can't be stained. 

I can't be. 

Not again Lady Macbeth. 

I drop him to the floor. I try to scrub the blood off my face, hoping it came off. No luck for my knuckles though, the blood has already stained them. 

His eyes gaze over to my pacing but he makes no movement to get up and run -- well not like he can anyways. 

I didn't beat him that bad. He's not dead at least. He's just hurt and well...will probably not be able to function properly again. 

My hands grip at my hair, pulling and taking strands with it. 

I need to figure out a way to not get blood on me -- for it not to stain. 

Darling oughta know how to help. 

Wait, Darling? 

Darling! She's probably worried sick.

I start walking away from the man, only to pivot and face him again when I try to figure out what to do. 

I already beat up a cop and now a store employee. 

Oh, what matter does it make I need to get back home to Darling. 

Fuck. I don't know how to get home now. Stupid town. 

I try walking the same way I came, but I can't remember which way was which. 

I blindly walk, trying to find something that indicates I'm close to home. 

Half an hour passes and I'm by a field of corn. Out of all places this just had to be where I ended up. Now I am definitely never going to be able to find my way. 

I have no clue how long I left Darling, but with the sun starting to rise I can make out that I've been gone for awhile. 

Oh god, poor Darling must be worried sick. 

I start walking along the corn. I hope a sign comes in view soon. 

Of course this would happen to me. I just had to get lost. 

Is this my punishment for my wrong doings? If it is, this isn't something that is going to make me stop. Doubt anything can. 

Getting lost is a minor inconvenience -- I'll find my way home soon. 

From behind me I can hear an engine coming closer. I do what anyone lost would do and wave my thumb around. Such an odd act, coming from a grown man who easily towers over most, that someone stopping to allow me to enter their vehicle is not plausible. 

Yet, this car does. A fairly old ford truck with dust covering the exterior and from the looks of it, the interior as well, is being driven by an older man with a white beard and overalls. 

He rolls down his window and questions why I am out at the crack of dawn.

"Well you see, I am lost. New to these parts and forgot how to make my way home." 

He takes a moment to think of the validity of my statement. 

"Son, you're down in Stevinson. You up in Hilmar or Turlock?"

"I'm up those ways." Stevinson? Must've walked more than I thought.

"Hmm," he scratches his head. "You wouldn't be that new fellow to hit Hilmar? Got the whole town talking." 

What? How can so many people know me already, including those in the nearby town?

"Oh no," I let out a chuckle. "I'm from Turlock, just moved there a couple months ago." This is already involving too much talking. I might've been home by now if he didn't shut up. 

He makes no use to hide the fact he is scanning me, trying to give himself a reason to not let me in his car. 

"That blood on your knuckles?" His eyebrow raises and I grunt. Stupid blood -- I need to make up a lie, and quick. 

"I've been walking for who knows how long and my feet have been bleeding. Blood on my knuckles because I've been checking them."

He seems to believe this as he doesn't bring about further questions. 

"Well, come on now! Get in!" 

I run to the side of the car and practically rip the door off to jump inside. I hope this old man drives faster than he thinks, I need to see Darling. 

"I'm on my way over to Hilmar right now. Going to go make some business deal with a young fellow. Want to see my crops and he's going to give me a lot of money." 

"That's nice," I hope he shuts up.

"You see..." 

I don't bother listening anymore, instead I stare out the window and watch the crops move past. 

How could I have managed to be gone for so long? By the time I get home, there's no doubt Darling won't wreak havoc on me. I must have her worried sick. I'm worried sick. 

Not just about Darling either, about all this talk about me. 

Again and again I am being told that my name is spreading like wild fire. It is not only annoying, but bothersome. 

I've been in town for only a few days, how is my name already a household one? 

I guess I will just have to ask James. He seems like someone I can at least talk to without getting angry. Once I get home and settle everything with Darling, I'll go straight to his house. 

The car comes to a stop, and luckily it is somewhere I recognize. 

The man, who actually never gave me his name -- or did but I wasn't listening-- gets out of his car and I follow. 

"Well son, sorry I have to drop you off but I'm meeting this fellow close by. I hope you can find your way from here." 

I nod and I'm about to start walking off before he grabs me by the shoulder. 

I look at him and then at his hand, which I am trying extremely hard not to rip off. 

He seems to notice and takes his hand off. 

"Um, since you're new and everything, just make sure you stay away from that fellow. Named Kylo Ren. Be safe." If only I could stay away from myself.

And with that, he walks off. 

Glad to know where I am, I start walking home. 

It takes less than ten minutes to be at my front door. I mentally prepare myself before I grab the handle. Darling can't be too mad..she probably will be though. 

I open the door, relishing in the scent only my Darling can give off. 

"Darling," I yell out as I close the door. 

Moments pass before I hear her voice in the living room, so smooth sounding even when mad. 

"Kylo Ren, where have you been? I have been so worried!" 

"Darling, Sweetheart, Honey, I went out after our fight. I needed to cool down. I lost my way home though and somehow ended up in a nearby town. Luckily some old man helped me out and drove me here." 

No emotion came from her, no nothing. I could tell she was angry, fuming even, by me coming home so late. 

"Please say something. I need you to say that it's okay. That I am home now and you're not angry." I plead. 

She looks me in the eyes before dragging her eyes to my knuckles. 

Fuck, not the blood.

"Kylo...blood on your knuckles? Again? When will you ever stop?" I can see the anger in her eyes change to sadness. 

"Darling, you know I don't mean for this to happen. It didn't get bad if that's what you're worried about. The blood on my hands pulled me out of my trance." 

"And now you're probably hoping your sweet Darling would so happily place your hands in hers. But no Kylo, I won't. You cannot keep doing this and expecting me to comfort you. I won't allow it." 

"I am not expecting that Darling. I just don't want you to be angry with me. I know I deserve it but if it's any consolation, we both had it in for each other during our fight. So, I had every right to go out and deal in my own way."

"Kylo," she sighs. "Just go wash your hands, then we can talk about this." She dismisses me like nothing. 

I stare at her before walking towards the kitchen sink. I lather my hands in soap that swallows them whole. I need this blood to come off. 

I scrap at my hands, tugging at them, to get the blood off. It's somewhat working, but I can still see the faintness of red. 

The worst is under my fingernails, where the crimson color is much more prominent. 

The whine that comes out of my mouth is not a welcoming one, but a sound that accurately portrays how I feel. 

Stupid blood -- so stubborn. Not even the scalding hot water, the scraping, will have it come off completely. 

I let out a long sigh as I turn off the water and grab a towel to dry off my hands. 

"Kylo, if you're done, please come out here." Her voice beckons me. 

I take a seat next to her on our sofa. 

"I'm sorry for how I reacted," she starts. "I understand we needed some time apart from each other which meant you needed to leave, but you were gone for so long and I was worried sick. I had no clue if something bad had happened to you. And to find out, while I was so worried, that you were out doing terrible things? I hold nothing but disappointment for you."

"Honey I understand, and I'm sorry too. I just needed some time to cool off and I didn't expect to deal in the way that I did and I didn't expect to get lost but this new town is so confusing to navigate through. 

"We just have to get used to it Kylo. In no time we will though," she gives me a small smile but it's enough for me. 

"Now about that blood..." She tries before I cut her off. 

"Nothing about the blood. It's done and over with." I plead with her.

"Honey, I was just going to give you something to help." 

"Oh...what is it?"

She hands me a pair of black leather gloves. 

"They're so, if by a slim chance, you get blood on your hands again, they won't stain. You won't have that reminder." 

I put them on, perfect fit. 

"Wow, thank you Darling. You don't understand how much better these will make me feel." 

"Of course, I hated seeing how distraught you get when the red stains." 

How she listens so well. 

How she doesn't criticize either. 

It feels nice to have this protection covering my hands. Feels powerful too, no more having to worry about crimson stains or how I'll react. 

"Well Honey, I am glad this is settled. But, I know it has been hours since I've been home, but I've been meaning to go over to James to talk to him. If I go now, I can catch him before he goes off to work." I tell her, watching my fingers as they take pleasure in their new home. 

"Sure Kylo, go on." 

I kiss her on the forehead before I make my way out of the house. 

I'm half way to James house before he comes running straight for me, almost pushing me down to the ground when he stops himself using my shoulders. 

"Did you hear?" He struggles to say as he takes in various breaths. 

"Hear what?" 

"About the employee at the general store?"

Word got around that fast? I knew I should've dealt with it.


End file.
